


Let you down.

by Saysi



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Depression, Drugs, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-26 04:58:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13228560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saysi/pseuds/Saysi
Summary: After a stupid mistake that costs them an important match, Kageyama and Hinata struggle to come to terms with themselves and their futures, and learn all the wrong ways to deal with their problems.Warning: Kinda dark, mentions of self-harm, underage drinking, and pill abuse as per the tags. Not as hard as a lot of fics, but it is definitely a central theme.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by "Let You Down" by NF
> 
> https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/nf/letyoudown.html

Hinata was drowning.  
He couldn't breathe. No matter how many times he opened his mouth and desperately tried to suck in air, his lungs never inflated. He tried long, deep breaths. He tried tiny, shallow breaths. No matter what he did, air refused to be a part of him.  
He'd messed up. God how he'd messed up. He'd practically handed the match point to the other team on a silver platter, and now it was over. No more teams to meet and decipher, no more games to plan out, no more standing on the court. He was done.  
There was so much he could have done differently, so much he could have done better. If he hadn't fumbled that last spike, they could have been celebrating in the izakaya right now. If he had just been a little bit faster to get there, or jumped a little bit higher to aim. If Kageyama had put his faith in someone else. But he'd picked Hinata, and Hinata had screwed it up. That was all there was to it. 

He was already imagining what they would all say to him, their voices swirling in his head. Some slightly sympathetic, but more “I told you so” than anything else, talking to him like an impertinent child who had finally been given his way, only to throw it away or hurt himself. Others would yell and berate him for being so stupid, would never let him live it down.  
It didn't matter, though, because he'd be gone.  
There was no way they would let him play again, after such an amateur mistake. He'd had his chance to prove himself, and he'd blown it. They'd all known when he arrived that he was useless, that he didn't know any of the basics, that he was only remotely decent at one specific skill. One specific skill that he'd god damn messed up. They'd given him so many chances, had encouraged him to keep working, to keep getting better. Maybe they'd had faith that he would improve? No, it was more like he was their little brother, begging to be involved in their games. And like you'd hand your brother an unplugged controller, he'd been given a role they didn't need, a role they could cover for. As long as he didn't get in the way they would let him join in their games, but now they would just slam the bedroom door in his face.  
He was done.  
It was all he could do to keep his tears at bay, to even stay upright, with everything going on in his head and his lungs. So he didn't. He leaned his back against a cold stone wall, and slowly he slid down it until his head was in his hands, until he could feel the shuddering breaths wracking his entire body and hear the hiss of tiny ribbons of air snaking their way in and out. Enough to keep him conscious, but not enough to breathe.

He knew Kageyama would be the worst, so when they got back to the school, he didn't wait. He didn't wait to hear the condolences from their coaches, their pathetic attempts at cheering everyone up, he didn't wait for Daichi to tell them to pick themselves up and move on, and he certainly didn't wait for Kageyama to follow him to the bike racks. He barely stopped to grab his bag, threw it over his shoulder, and if he had had enough air in his lungs to do it, he would have run. Instead he settled for hauling himself away under the cover of buildings and shadows, clambering onto his bike, and taking off at a slightly wobbly pace to go home.  
He had messed up, and he knew it. He was the worst. After all the time people had spent helping him, he had messed up something so small. After all the extra hours Kageyama had spent with him, all the times Kageyama, of all people, had bitten his tongue and tried to be encouraging.  
God, he'd actually thought they were friends. That was out the window, let alone anything more than that.  
He just wanted them to feel like it was worth it. He didn't want anyone to look back and think of all the hours they'd wasted on him. That was him, a waste. A waste of time and space.  
Kageyama had said it from the beginning. He was useless, he wasn't at all talented. When he had failed at getting Hinata kicked off the team, he had tried with everything he had to help him change that. But he'd been right all along, in the end.  
Waste, waste, waste.  
But he didn't want to hear it. He couldn't stand to hear it. Not from the young man he'd grown so close to. So fond of. Hearing it in his mind was one thing, but seeing those eyes, watching those lips, hearing it for real? He couldn't handle that.  
So instead, he pedalled. He shut off his phone so he couldn't be interrupted, then he pedalled until his thighs burned and his lungs ached and tears streamed from his eyes unstemmed. And then he pedalled some more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Feels like we're on the edge right now_  
>  _I wish that I could say I'm proud_  
>  _I'm sorry that I let you down_  
>  _Let you down_
> 
> _All these voices in my head get loud_   
>  _I wish that I could shut them out_   
>  _I'm sorry that I let you down_   
>  _Let you down_
> 
> _Yeah, I guess I'm a disappointment_  
>  _Doing everything I can, I don't wanna make you disappointed_  
>  _It's annoying_  
>  _I just wanna make you feel like everything I ever did wasn't ever tryna make an issue for you_  
>  _But, I guess the more you_  
>  _Thought about everything, you were never even wrong in the first place, right?_  
>  _Yeah, I'ma just ignore you_


	2. Chapter 2

Volleyball had been the one thing he loved, the one thing that kept him getting out of bed day after day, and now it was going to be torn away from him.  
He knew this feeling. He'd been there before.  
All he wanted to do was sleep.  
He stumbled home in a daze, leaning against the wall for support as he kicked his shoes off, and froze when his mother looked up expectantly.  
“How did it go?”  
“Not good.”  
“Oh. I'm sorry, that's such a shame.”  
She didn't care at all. The words were practically a record on repeat by now.  
“I yelled at them,” he said softly, forcing the tears to stay at bay. “I screwed up, and I don't think I can go back now. They all hate me.”  
He hated himself for it, but his mother didn't seem remotely surprised.  
“I'm sure things will be better after a good night's sleep,” she told him flatly. “You look exhausted.”  
“I don't feel well.”  
“You go on up to bed, I'll come check on you soon.”  
She would never get there. She would get distracted by something else more important and forget he had even come home. Forget she even had a son.  
“Goodnight, Mom.”  
“Goodnight Tobio, sweet dreams.”  
Like that was gonna happen.  
He was embarrassed, more than anything else. Embarrassed by the way he had acted, yelling at everyone like he knew everything, taking his frustration and anger out on everyone except the one person who deserved it. He was embarrassed for Hinata, too. He was the one who had been on the receiving end of Kageyama's screw up. If he was entirely honest, Kageyama had been hoping, on some level, that Hinata could handle it. He knew that if he sent the ball any other direction they were going to lose. He just couldn't focus, couldn't think straight. But maybe, just maybe, Hinata would have pulled off a miracle despite Kageyama's lackluster performance. It would be a moment of glory for him, if he did. But he was human, after all, and he couldn't deal with Kageyama's slip ups every single time they arose. He had missed, and now it was him on the screen messing up the shot. Kageyama would have apologised, if he'd had the energy. He didn't think his words were worth anything, though. Not at this point. They already hated him just like his last team, even Hinata who he had actually become close to over the year, and there was no going back from that.  
He'd learned that the hard way.  
He hauled himself up to his bedroom and fell onto the mattress, not even bothering to pull the blankets up. One of his hands roamed under his shirt, fingering the neat parallel lines that marred his hip, wondering if the skin was still thin enough for him to split it open with his fingernails. His knife was somewhere, he knew, but he didn't even have the energy to find it. In the morning maybe he would be able to find some comfort in the familiar feeling, the nostalgia of gritting his teeth as the sharp metal slid through his skin in neat, calculated patterns. But for now he would have to settle for bed. Sleep wasn't just a need, it was an escape. Sleep would take him away from all of this.  
If only he could sleep forever.

It always started with not wanting to get out of bed. That was now he knew it was getting bad again.  
Kageyama wasn't sure what he was going to do. He tried to think, tried to plan, but without volleyball his future was empty. No one would take him now, not after he'd publicly ruined two teams. Nationals, gone. Dream Match, gone. National Team? Yeah right.  
He hauled himself out of bed just so that his parents wouldn't complain. He didn't have the energy to shower, though, so he just brushed his teeth and splashed some water on his face. He was a mess, he knew.  
What a let down.  
He found his parents in the kitchen, and saw their faces as they turned his way.  
“I'm going back to bed.”  
“Yeah,” his mother nodded faintly, “I'll tell the school you're sick.”  
“Thank you.”  
Collapsing into bed was such a relief. Bed was where he belonged. No one hated him in bed.  
They did, though.  
He groaned and sat back up again, rummaging through his drawers until he found what he wanted. A small, sharp, silver blade that folded away into its shiny wooden handle. It had served him well for the past few years, even if he'd stopped using it for a little while. Most of the year, he supposed. A bottle of sleeping pills sat beside it, and he pulled them out too. Sleep was good, sleep was what he needed. The pills would help.  
He glanced at the label then just pulled out three, shoving them in his mouth and pulling a face as he swallowed them dry.  
A bottle of clear liquid sat in the bottom of his wardrobe, brewed by some upperclassman, that Tanaka had obtained for him for New Year's Eve. It was ridiculously strong, Kageyama had only managed a tiny bit of the stuff, diluted well in soda. He had kept the bottle though, figuring it would last him a long time. Right now he was glad he did.  
He pulled it out and wiped off some dust, unscrewing the cap and bracing himself as he took a mouthful, his throat burning as it went down.  
The burn was good, it meant he could still feel.  
Maybe if he took enough of it, he would stop hearing the voices. They would stop haunting his dreams. Maybe he wouldn't dream – he'd heard that somewhere, that people dreamed less when they were drunk. That would be pretty good right now.  
He took another swig just for good measure and capped it again, leaving it by his bed for later. He suspected he would want it again.  
His parents would be leaving for work soon, then the house would be his. He would be free to do whatever he pleased without risk of them walking in. So he kept his knife clutched in his fist as he crawled back into bed, pulling the blankets up over his nose and closing his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Walking towards you, with my head down, lookin' at the ground, I'm embarrassed for you_  
>  _Paranoia, what did I do wrong this time? That's parents for you_  
>  _Very loyal?_  
>  _Shoulda had my back, but you put a knife into my hands before_  
>  _What else should I carry for you?_  
>  _I cared for you, but_
> 
> _Feels like we're on the edge right now_  
>  _I wish that I could say I'm proud_  
>  _I'm sorry that I let you down_  
>  _Let you down_  
>  _All these voices in my head get loud_  
>  _I wish that I could shut them out_  
>  _I'm sorry that I let you down_  
>  _Let you down_


	3. Chapter 3

Hinata took a deep breath and knocked on the door, shifting from one foot to the other as he waited. He had already made the decision not to go to training this morning, so this could be the last time he would ever see Kageyama. His last chance to apologise for being such a screw up.  
He knew he would be yelled at and abused, but he deserved it. He needed to hear it. Needed someone else to berate him instead of just his own brain.  
He jumped when the door opened. Somehow he had never expected Kageyama's parents to be home when he arrived, but here was his mother, staring down at him expectantly.  
“Sorry to interrupt,” he managed to stumble out. “I-Is Ka- Is Tobio still here?”  
“He's not feeling well, he's staying home sick today.”  
“Oh. Could I see him? Just for a minute, I have to get to school.”  
“Sure. I'm leaving now, so please lock the door on your way out.”  
“Of course, thank you.”  
She pointed him to the right door, and he padded his way down the hall, knocking lightly on the bedroom door.  
“What?”  
He took the mumble as an invitation and pushed the door open, doing his best to put an apologetic smile on his face as he looked inside.  
“Hi, Kageyama.”  
He scowled and rolled over to face the wall, pulling the blankets up over his head.  
“I don't want to hear it.”  
“Just give me a chance to-”  
“I don't want to talk to you. Leave me alone.”  
“Just one minute. Please.”  
His eyes were watering again. This wasn't how it was meant to go. He was meant to yell and complain and argue while Hinata sat on his knees and apologised, he was meant to get angry, maybe even violent. He wasn't meant to just refuse to hear it.  
“I screw everything up, okay? I get it. Just leave me alone. You can't say anything I haven't already said to myself.”  
“What are you talking about? I just wanted to-”  
“I told you to leave.”  
“I'm not leaving.”  
He finally sat up, his whole body shaking as he gritted his teeth, and Hinata braced himself for the anger he'd been waiting for.  
“Why don't you listen to me? I told you to leave. I told you I didn't want to see you, didn't want to talk to you. Get out of my bedroom, and get out of my house.”  
“I'm not listening?” Hinata asked quietly, his whole body falling weak. “When have you ever listened to me? I came here asking you to listen and you won't even do it now. I shouldn't be surprised, this isn't new.”  
Kageyama froze, staring as the oaken eyes filled with tears, before the boy turned on his heel and stormed out of the room. When the door closed, Kageyama realised his mistake. He wanted to talk about it. He wanted to yell, and scream, and shout. Only for some reason, all he could manage was quiet, vaguely annoyed words. 

He threw the bedcovers off and ran for the door, slammed it open without even putting his shoes on.  
“Hinata,” he called, his voice choked up and strained. “Hinata!”  
It was too late.  
Hinata was done with him. He'd had one more sliver of a chance to make things work, and he'd screwed it up. Of course he had.  
Hinata heard the voice but couldn't bear to turn, wiping tears from his face with his sleeve as he threw one leg over his bicycle. Kageyama had followed him. Why had he followed him, god damn it? He had to leave, now, before it was too late. He was wrong, he wasn't ready to hear it. Not from Kageyama. He would go to practice and hear it from everyone else, would announce that he was leaving, would see all the relief in their faces to hear it. He would take every word and bury it deep inside to remind him, to make him more careful.  
But he would never hear it from Kageyama, he would make sure of that.

When Hinata looked up, he was halfway home. He had chickened out, because of course he had. He hadn't gone to school to take his verbal beating, he had pedalled for the mountain pass as fast as his legs would take him. He was running away, he knew that, but right now he didn't even care.  
“I'm going back to bed,” he announced through gritted teeth, when his Mother looked up at him in the doorway. “I don't feel well.”  
“Oh, you poor thing. Go get some rest, I'll check on you in a little bit. Can I get you anything?”  
“No, I just want to sleep. Please don't let anyone wake me.”  
“Okay, if that's what you think you need.”  
When the bedroom door was safely closed he tore his uniform off and climbed into bed, rolling onto his stomach to let the pillow take his tears from him.  
He had seen the glass bottle at Kageyama's bedside. They'd both been invited to Tanaka's house for a New Year's party, and Shouyou had watched as Kageyama handed over cash to pay for it. It was brewed by some friend who had made it way too strong, and while Hinata had rejected the offer to try it himself, he had seen the face Kageyama made when he tried it. There had barely been a dribble gone from it by the end of the night, not even a whole shot worth.  
The bottle in Kageyama's room had been almost empty.  
Kageyama was drinking away his sorrows. No wonder he had been so blunt about wanting Hinata to leave. It looked like he'd done it a lot, regularly. It looked like the same bottle, but who knew if it really was. It could have been refilled, or he could have gotten another from the same friend. Kageyama had probably been drinking after every game, drowning his anger and frustration, numbing himself to the strife Hinata caused him.  
Hell, maybe he even started his mornings with it. A sip to get through the whole practice in his presence. He wouldn't be surprised to hear it.  
Come to think of it, he hadn't seen Kageyama smile in a long time. He always seemed to be annoyed or unhappy. Or maybe that was just when Hinata was around?  
Whatever the case, he was done. He was out. Really, he should have known from the start that nothing would ever happen between them. Kageyama was a tall, talented, handsome young guy, and Hinata was...  
Well, Hinata was a mess.  
He'd done his best, he'd tried everything he could to be better. A better person, a better athlete, a better friend even.  
It was over.  
He was such a waste of space.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Yeah, you don't wanna make this work_  
>  _You just wanna make this worse_  
>  _Want me to listen to you_  
>  _But you don't ever hear my words_  
>  _You don't wanna know my hurt, yet_
> 
> _Let me guess you want an apology, probably_  
>  _How can we keep going at a rate like this?_  
>  _We can't, so I guess I'ma have to leave_
> 
> _Please don't come after me_  
>  _I just wanna be alone right now, I don't really wanna think at all_  
>  _Go ahead, just drink it off_  
>  _Both know you're gonna call tomorrow like nothing's wrong_  
>  _Ain't that what you always do?_  
>  _I feel like every time I talk to you, you're in an awful mood_  
>  _What else can I offer you?_  
>  _There's nothing left right now, I gave it all to you_


	4. Chapter 4

It hadn't felt like this the first time he'd screwed up. For the longest time he had maintained that his teammates were the ones who were wrong. He'd known, deep down, that it wasn't true, but he had still insisted, tried to fool himself. It had taken weeks for it all to set in, for him to become a shadow of his former self.  
He looked down at the knife in his hand, so smooth and clean, so pure. It wasn't until he flicked the blade out that he could see the metal stained crimson, that he could remember how he had learned to cope. No one else would speak to him, no one would punish him for doing the wrong thing. They were long past that point, by the time everything went down. So he'd done it himself. He'd taken out all the anger and frustration and regret on his own body, on his own skin. His arm had been too noticeable, the first time. He'd gotten questions from his teachers about the bandages covering the deep gashes. So he'd hidden them. Under his shirt he'd covered himself in marks, in tallies, in reminders. It had been so easy, once he'd gotten used to it. Every burst of pain was his body screaming at him for being such an idiot, for screwing up his chances at a future, for ruining his whole life over his dumb ego.  
People always talked about the future like it was some wonderous thing, where every problem would be solved, where nothing would matter anymore.  
He didn't care about the light at the end, he was just sick of the tunnel.  
The blade in his hand looked so inviting. It was there for him.  
It would be so easy.

It wasn't like he thought it was a normal thing to do. He knew he was messed up, that was no big secret. Even if he hadn't realised it for himself, he'd heard plenty of other people say it in his lifetime. Kageyama isn't normal, Kageyama is weird, Kageyama is a monster. The words brought almost a comfort with them, so familiar and almost nostalgic. What he wouldn't give to hear them again, to hear someone cuss him out instead of just smiling and nodding and saying “we'll get it next time.” They wouldn't get it next time. There was no next time, not for their team. Not as they were.  
They'd all wanted to keep going, to continue for as long as they possibly could, together. Kageyama had wanted to be a part of that. As much as he insisted otherwise, he liked being part of a team. He liked having friends.  
Were they really his friends?  
He didn't even know anymore. They had all put so much effort in, had extended so many hands and olive branches, and Kageyama had pushed them all away. He wanted them to fight for him, like Hinata did. Wanted them to insist, to plead.  
God, he had such a stupid ego.

He'd still thought of them as his friends, though, even if they hadn't felt the same way. He should have made more of an effort, should have tried something, anything. But every time he opened his mouth, the wrong words came out. When he wanted “please” he got “do what I say”, and when he wanted “thank you” he got “about time”. There were wires crossed in his brain somewhere, mixing up his signals.  
What would happen if he tried to apologise?

They'd push him away, like he did to Hinata.

His head was pounding, like his brain might explode at any moment. He needed to do something, anything, to drown out his thoughts. The moonshine was gone, and his parents didn't keep any alcohol in the house. His pills were gone too. They hadn't even worked right, hadn't shattered his consciousness like he'd hoped. Hadn't kept him out for more than a few hours at a time.  
God, he needed sleep.  
If only his brain would stop screaming at him.  
Shut up, shut up, shut up.

He clamped his hands over his ears, but it only made it louder. Yelling, fighting, every stupid word he'd ever said played back on a loop. He shook his head, tried to clear it, but still it buzzed, it hummed, it rattled. 

“I know, I know!” Kageyama insisted, his voice shaky as he buried his head in his knees. “I get it, I understand, I'm sorry! Just leave me alone! I don't want to hear it anymore! Please!”

With a trembling hand he picked his knife up again and pulled his shirt over his head, rolling onto his side to see the mess of white-stained skin over his hip. It had healed, it had smoothed out, but the evidence still remained. A stencil for where his blade needed to go, like an old game of join-the-dots. It would be so easy, and it would hurt, and it would release the throbbing tension from inside of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Feels like we're on the edge right now_  
>  _I wish that I could say I'm proud_  
>  _I'm sorry that I let you down_  
>  _Let you down_  
>  _All these voices in my head get loud_  
>  _I wish that I could shut them out_  
>  _I'm sorry that I let you down_  
>  _Let you down_


	5. Chapter 5

Hinata woke to his phone buzzing under his pillow. He thought he'd switched it off, but there was a vague recollection somewhere in the back of his mind, waking up and turning it on to check the time, and maybe forgetting to turn it off again.  
Surprisingly, except not really, he didn't have a lot of messages waiting for him. One or two missed calls, a couple of LINE messages, but no real concern. Fair enough, he thought. They were all still mad at him, after all.  
But now, his phone was ringing. It was the middle of the night, that much he knew. Just gone three, in fact, he discovered when he dug it out of the bed. Kageyama's name lit up his screen, and for a moment he considered rejecting the call. But he sucked it up, he hit the button, and he held it to his ear.  
“Hinata?”  
The voice was slow, the letters slurred, and Hinata immediately knew he'd been drinking again. He must have had more, somewhere. This wasn't half-an-inch-more-moonshine, this was half-a-bottle-of-something.  
“Kageyama?” he asked stupidly.  
“Hinata,” he said again, and this time Hinata heard pain behind it. “Hinata, you... I...”  
It took a minute for Hinata to realise the stumbles came from tears. Kageyama was sobbing, drunk, into his phone, and somehow Hinata was on the other end of it.  
“Hinata, we'll do better next time,” he insisted with his choked voice. “We'll fix it, we'll make it- we'll make it work. We'll make it better. I'll... I'll figure it out, okay? I'll figure it out, and we'll practice, and... and... I'll come see you, okay? We'll work it out.”  
Any pity Hinata had felt was gone. His grip squeezed tighter on his phone, and he shook his head.  
“I'm done,” he said softly. “I don't want to hear it.”  
There was a pause, and then  
“Hinata?”  
“Don't talk to me like that, Kageyama. I'm tired of it. I'm tired of the lectures and the complaints and... and... I'm tired of being in the way, okay? I get it, you're a genius, but come on! I'm not going to apologise, I tried that already and you wouldn't listen. I don't want to see you. I'm out.”  
He hung the phone up before Kageyama could answer, and his thumb hovered over the power button. He wanted to switch it off, but some tiny part of him was still hoping. Hoping Kageyama would call back, would apologise, would promise to work on it.  
The call never came.

For a while now, Hinata had thought they could have gone far together. As long as they were together, they were invincible. No one could push them harder, work them more, and celebrate their success better than they could. A power couple, people would call them.  
Wait, no. That was a different thought entirely.  
One dumb slip up, one stupid mistake, had torn that all away from him. His teammate, his best friend, his... his everything, really. He could get over losing volleyball. It would hurt, but he deserved it. Losing Kageyama, though? That was a tougher pill to swallow. He had to do it, he knew it was for the best for both of them, but god if it wasn't so damn hard.  
He was such a let down. To himself, for ruining the dreams he'd held on to for so long. To his team, for ruining their chances at success, for ending their time together. And to Kageyama.  
He opened his messages to distract himself and found other teammates, teammates who by all accounts probably hated him by now. But when he opened them he found tears in his eyes, found himself sobbing harder than he ever thought possible.

“Where are you? Are you in hospital? You never miss practice!”  
“We miss our little ball of sunshine.”  
“It's getting lonely at practice without you.”

His teammates. His friends.  
He was such an idiot. Of course they weren't mad. They were too nice for that.  
They were worried about him. They were waiting for him to come back, to be his normal self, to cheer them all up and get them working for the next tournament. He knew they had no chance of competing in it, certainly not together, probably not at all, now. But his teammates didn't know that. His teammates expected him to show up, guns blazing, declaring his intention to take on Japan in the dream match and show them all how high crows could fly.  
He would be there in the morning. Pretending wasn't so hard, really. He knew how to act.  
Feeling worthless, he thought, might be the worst feeling in the world. He wouldn't let anyone else feel that way.

And so, after a few hours of tossing and turning, with eccentric bursts of sleep, he dragged himself to practice. He smiled, he apologised for being gone so long, and he pretended nothing had ever happened.  
It was funny though, Hinata thought, that jumping was suddenly so difficult. You would think it would be easier, with nothing left inside of him.  
No one ever tells you that emptiness is the heaviest thing of all.  
Emptiness weighs you down better than lead. It makes your head foggy, it makes your legs numb, it makes you use all your strength just to raise a hand in a wave or turn up the corners of your mouth. Hinata wasn't sure he had any strength left to use.  
There certainly wasn't enough to jump with.  
Being here, though, felt better. He couldn't stand to be in his own presence anymore. The thought of being alone with himself in an empty room was torture. So yeah, this was better, even if he had to fake a smile and play along. He didn't think he was quite managing it convincingly. His smiles were watery, his laughs non-existent, but his teammates – his friends? – seemed satisfied. None of them seemed torn up about the match, but maybe they were pretending too. Or maybe they'd worked through it as a group, while Hinata wasn't there, and had moved on. He didn't want to ask, didn't want to bring the mood down.  
Right now, they were happy. And if they were happy, he could pretend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Yeah, don't talk down to me_  
>  _That's not gonna work now_  
>  _Packed all my clothes and I moved out_  
>  _I don't even wanna go to your house_  
>  _Everytime I sit on that couch_  
>  _I feel like you lecture me_  
>  _Eventually, I bet that we_  
>  _Could have made this work_  
>  _And probably woulda figured things out_
> 
> _But I guess that I'm a letdown_  
>  _But it's cool, I checked out_  
>  _Oh, you wanna be friends now?_  
>  _Okay, let's put my fake face on and pretend now_
> 
> _Sit around and talk about the good times_  
>  _That didn't even happen_  
>  _I mean, why are you laughing?_  
>  _Must have missed that joke_  
>  _Let me see if I can find a reaction_  
>  _No, but at least you're happy_


	6. Chapter 6

Hinata was standing on the edge of a cliff. He couldn't bring himself to look down, to peer through the fog and see how high up he really was, but he knew that if he took a big step forward that would be it.  
It would be so simple, to just take one step.  
The wind was pushing him, too. Swirling and whistling around him, pelting him with bursts of cold that numbed him to the core.  
If he could say he'd done his best, that would be one thing.  
“I'll keep working, I'll get better, we'll get it the next time.”  
He wished he could say those words, that he could announce them to the club with a bright smile then get back to work. He knew, though.  
He knew he could have done better. He knew he could have worked harder, done more practice, paid more attention in the briefings. He could have calmed Kageyama down – God knew no one else could have – and given him the space to think, to work, to do what he did best. But instead he had watched as Kageyama got more and more angry, had yelled at all his teammates to do better. Had yelled at Hinata.  
And he had taken it. Because he knew.  
If he'd moved a little faster, jumped a little higher, the game would have been theirs.  
He'd taken it, because he knew. He knew Kageyama was right. About everything.  
God he was so numb.  
The footsteps behind him barely even registered in his brain, and he didn't even turn his head when the voice started.  
“Oi, Shrimp, we're all waiting for you to- What the-?”  
Tears were welling in Hinata's eyes, and his arm was too heavy to lift to wipe them away.  
“I'm sorry I let you all down,” he sobbed, his head hanging down, too heavy for his neck to support. “I let everybody down.”  
“What are you talking about?” Tsukishima asked with a sigh. He had no idea how he'd even ended up out there, other than he was the closest to the door, and now he had to deal with this? “Get yourself together and come inside.”  
He reached for Hinata's arm, jumping when he felt the icy skin, clearly tinged blue now that he was closer. The boy was shaking, and Tsukishima wasn't entirely sure if it was from the cold or the tears, but he gathered himself and grabbed the stick-thin arm tightly.  
“Come on,”  
“Leave me alone!” Hinata demanded, trying to tear his arm away and failing, uncoordinated in his state. “I don't want to hear it! Just leave me here!”  
Tsukishima didn't bother to argue, just glanced back at the gym doors as he began to drag the screaming and sobbing child of an athlete behind him.  
“Hey!” He called, “I need some help, here. Something is wrong with him.”  
He didn't know when the concern had started to bubble inside him, but somehow it had appeared, and he was so damn ready to pass responsibility to someone more equipped for it. He'd never been more happy than the moment he saw Sugawara rushing toward them, with all his empathy and understanding. He did, however, stay for long enough to take off his tracksuit jacket and pull it around Hinata's stubborn body, zipping it up securely despite Hinata trying to push him away.  
“What's going on, Hinata? Are you hurt? You're so cold!”  
He knelt on the floor as Hinata collapsed, sobbing into his knees, and the team all stopped to stare.  
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry!” Hinata blurted through his sobs, “I'm so sorry!  
“What? Hinata, talk to me, you're scaring us.”  
“I'm sorry I let you down,” those same words again, Tsukishima thought. “I let you down.”  
“No,” Sugawara said softly, pulling the boy into a warm hug. “No, you didn't. You didn't let anyone down.”

Kageyama had sat through enough history lessons to know that some people romanticised the feelings he was having. Or maybe the lack of feelings, he wasn't even sure anymore. Artists would take their pain and use it to create haunting paintings or heart-wrenching poetry. They left mourners in their wake, lamenting the loss of such a brilliant soul that died so young. And Kageyama knew why.  
Nothing about this was beautiful.  
It wasn't romantic or mysterious. He wasn't waiting for a charming girl to walk into his life and magically make everything better. If this mess inside of him was meant to make him an artist, then by God, he'd do it. With his body as a canvas and a knife as his brush, he would paint the most beautiful, most romantic shades of red. Right now he was black as the night, full of a heavy darkness. He would let the shadows escape, though. He would purge them from beneath his skin and replace them with the colour of love, of power, of passion. The colour of danger.  
He knew the knife was around here somewhere. He'd had it just hours before. On the bed, maybe. No, on the desk, beside his regrettably empty bottle of moonshine.  
He stumbled across to retrieve it, barely keeping his balance, leaning heavily on the desk top to stay upright. After a few near-misses his fingers finally closed on the blade, and he clutched his treasure as he fell back onto his bed. He would mess up the blankets, he knew, but he figured his parents would just throw them out anyway. Maybe they would wrap him up in them and be done with it, rather than bother dealing with the mess.  
“Kageyama,” he heard from the hall, and froze. “Kageyama, I'm coming in.”  
For a moment he thought maybe he should put the knife away, but he wasn't even sure he cared anymore. The room was already tainted by the glass bottle on his desk and the empty pill containers scattered on his floor. He knew that voice. It had spent enough time swirling around in his brain, lately.  
Why did you do that to us? If you'd just kept your mouth shut, or been encouraging, we would have won.  
He knew what the boy was going to say, he didn't need to hear it anymore.  
You should have timed your toss better. If your aim had been just a little better we would be in a totally different place, now. Having a totally different conversation. But you ruined it.  
It was strange that the voice was always so soft, in his head. There were some who fumed at him, some who were just disappointed, and a lot who yelled at him, but that voice was the only one that said things so plainly, so matter-of-fact about it.  
Maybe that was why it hurt so much. There was no emotion to blame, no anger and tension boiling to the surface, it was just simple facts. You screwed up, we lost, it's over because of you, and now we all hate you.

“Kageyama? What are you-?” Hinata froze, staring at the disheveled figure sitting on his blankets. “What are you doing?”  
“I'm sorry,” he choked out, strangely surprised to find tears welling in his eyes. “I'm so sorry.”  
Hinata stared at him a moment longer, then gently pried the knife from his hand, setting it aside.  
“I'm sorry,” Hinata said softly, shaking his head. “I let you down.”  
For a long moment they just stared at each other, then slowly he joined Kageyama on the bed, ignoring the smell of terrible homebrew alcohol on his breath as their lips met.  
“You need help,” Hinata said softly, running a hand through Kageyama's messy hair.  
“I need help,” Kageyama agreed in a mumble. “You do too.”  
“Yeah,” Hinata sighed. “We're both gonna get help.”  
“When?”  
“In the morning,” Hinata lay back on the bed, dragging Kageyama with him and pulling the blankets up to cover their chilly frames. “Right now I need sleep the most.”  
“You're gonna stay here?”  
“Yeah,” Hinata nodded into Kageyama's shoulder. “And tomorrow we're gonna figure this out.”  
“Together?”  
“Obviously.”  
“I won't let you down again.”  
“Me neither.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Feels like we're on the edge right now_  
>  _I wish that I could say I'm proud_  
>  _I'm sorry that I let you down_  
>  _Oh, I let you down_
> 
> _All these voices in my head get loud_  
>  _And I wish that I could shut them out_  
>  _I'm sorry that I let you down_  
>  _Oh, let you down_
> 
> _I'm sorry_  
>  _I'm so sorry now_  
>  _I'm sorry_  
>  _That I let you down_

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/SaysiOnTwit) and support my writing endeavors or find my other social links etc [here](https://www.saysiwrites.info)


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